


Izuku Midoriya and His Perfect World

by WanderingHeart



Series: My Neighbor Kacchan [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Author tried so hard, Izuku is smitten somebody help him, M/M, Minor Bullying, Muggle Deku, Wizard Kacchan, did it work?, slightly OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-25 01:32:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12519936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingHeart/pseuds/WanderingHeart
Summary: Izuku knows he loves Kacchan a lot. And he strives. Oh how he strives to keep Kacchan with him in his own perfect world.





	Izuku Midoriya and His Perfect World

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Author still can't English.  
> 4309859435894854 Grammatical errors.  
> This is supposed to be 1k. But word vomit happened again.  
> I wrote this differently from the first one. I hope it's okay?  
> I think it kinda turned a little bit sadder than I wanted.

It may or may not be saying much since it has only been four years since Izuku Midoriya first met Kacchan. But even so, Izuku’s earliest memories have always included the explosive boy (but pretty, _really_ pretty boy).

From the moment he wakes up, his mind will always be flooded by inexplicable ideas for his and Kacchan’s daily escapades. Even at night, before succumbing to the comfortable the call of slumber on his downy cream sheets, he will reminisce everything he did with best friend. They can be as simple as raiding Auntie Mitsuki’s backyard for newer specie of grasshoppers and praying mantis, to something as exuberant as hiking the hills and bathing at the miniature pond just behind Izuku’s daycare. Izuku will pick up wild daffodils blooming on Kacchan’s favorite trail. He will later hand them over to Kacchan (“For Auntie Mitsuki!”), and then he will also keep a bunch for his mother.

On simpler days of pouring rains and thunderous clouds, when they are not allowed to leave the safety of their home, they will be inside Izuku’s room, cuddled up and warmed by Izuku’s favorite fleece blanket and drinking hot cocoa made by his mom. The enraged weather is forgotten inside the comfy room draped in cerulean wallpapers as they find themselves busy, noses hidden behind Izuku’s textbooks. Kacchan hates them (or so he says), but will always help Izuku finish his Math and Science homework with ease. Surprisingly, Kacchan is so good at them despite never going to school.

When Izuku asks him about it, he will only shrug dispassionately as he downs on the last gulp of his hot cocoa, flicking on the next pages of Izuku’s notebook.

“Old hag teaches me stuff,” says Kacchan, and it only made Izuku adore him more.

“You’re so cool, Kacchan,” praises Izuku.

“‘Course I’am.”

Kacchan always dismisses his commend, but Izuku knows the otherwise. Kacchan’s stunning crimson orbs shine brighter with Izuku’s admiration. He will bask on all praises thrown at him. They are the fuel to Kacchan’s fire, a fire that Izuku must never let to die, for Kacchan is everything Izuku isn’t, and Izuku is everything Kacchan isn’t.

Izuku, at the tender age of eight, dreams nothing but protecting the perfect world, _his perfect world,_ which he and Kacchan built.

 

*

 

There are days when the outside world will catch up on him. On school mornings without Kacchan, when he is not under the security of his perfect world, his old friends looms over him like a blockade of unsightly past and misfortunes. They will leave him behind lockers, knees scrape and bleeding. They will make fun of him, for hanging out with Kacchan, the odd kid who looks at people with strange and judging eyes. Kacchan, for them, is an estranged child from an estranged family who chose to live and build a life on a seemingly cursed house uncared for centuries.

“Where have you been? ‘Zuku?” Tsubasa sneers at him, pushing his shoulders so hard that Izuku actually hits the side of the locker with a loud clang.

 _‘Ignore him, Izuku,’_ he tells himself. _‘Ignore him and they’ll be gone.’_

“Ah, I know,” Tsubasa continues. “Hanging out with _Kacchan_.”

 _‘Ignore him, Izuku,’_ he repeats.

“Ignore us, huh? I guess you rather hang out with that _freak_ than us.”

_Freak._

There’s that word again, and he hates it. Kacchan is _special,_ but definitely not a _freak._

_Ignore them._

“I heard he’s cursed. I bet you’re cursed too,” Tsubasa laughs, making ugly feelings swarm inside Izuku. He hates it… he _hates it._

“Ka… kacchan is n..not cursed,” he finds himself stuttering, afraid but unrelenting. Nobody badmouths Kacchan in his presence. It’s something Izuku cannot stand.

“You can say mean… mean stuff about me… but not Kacchan,” he cries. “And he is better than all of you. He’s actually the best!”

He knows he should not have spoken. Then maybe they would just have left him a broken shoulder. But Izuku doesn’t care. He doesn’t care with what the people say. He doesn’t care about the bruises and his bleeding knee. He wipes his tears with his already soiled uniform, and lets a broken smile on his face.

“It’s okay,” he tells himself. “It will be okay.”

 

*

 

“When will you ever fight back?”

Kacchan asks him once when they are at the safeguard of the blond boy’s room, tending Izuku’s newly forming bruise on his right cheek.

The ashen blond found his friend at the bottom step of their porch, sniveling and all with his trademark fat tears and snot. Being the ever caring _best_ friend, he yelled at Izuku for being such a _weak and stupid crybaby who can’t fight back_ before pulling the smaller boy inside his house.

Izuku has never been inside Kacchan’s room, let alone, Kacchan’s house. But if he will have to describe it, it will be _magical._

It is like he’s boxed in an ancient place trapped in time, smelling like herbs and parchment. It flows in the air, calming and revitalizing his senses. Bronze painted walls complimented the whimsical aura of the place. Despite the wooden color of the surroundings, it doesn’t dim the light keeping the room bright. The uneven stack of boxes line on the other side of the room left Izuku wondering if Kacchan has ever unpacked after moving. But there is a clutter of books on the floor, thick, browning, and irrefutably larger than Izuku’s school books.

It made Izuku wonder what kind of books Kacchan read. They look old and dusty, barely kept together by knotted strings. It is as if they have been passed down through each generations of Kacchan’s family. Are they interesting? Izuku is pretty sure they are not science and fairy tale books. Kacchan always tells him Science is boring. He will also read Izuku’s fantasy novels but will comment on how everything is unreal.

_“They’re fantasy books, Kacchan. Of course they are unreal. And I don’t think goblins ever run banks.”_

_“They do, Izuku. They do. They run Gringotts.”_

_“What’s green guts, Kacchan?”_

_“Grin_ gotts, _Deku. Gringotts.”_

But Kacchan likes Mathematics. He will borrow Izuku’s Math books and read it for hours once they spent their entire physical prowess from too much hiking.

He solves Izuku’s Math problems like it’s nothing. The problems Izuku would take an hour to solve, Kacchan solves in fifteen minutes. Soon, third grade Math will bore Kacchan and Izuku will have to borrow newer books ( _Advance Mathematics for the Wise and Talented_ ) from Yuuei Library Central to satisfy the blond’s hunger for problem solving.

Izuku thinks his bleeding cheek is a blessing in disguise.

He loves to watch Kacchan work. He guessed that the bruise is worth a doting Kacchan (not that he wanted to get bruised again).

Currently, the blond boy is rubbing a brownish-green ointment on his cheek, the wonder salve of Auntie Mitsuki that worked like magic when Izuku used it the first time, four years ago. The other boy has his brows scrunched in concentration - thin, small fingers rubbing a soothing circle on Izuku’s freckled cheek, the tip of his tongue sticking out of his lips when he gets all the spot, and his fangs slightly showing when he realizes he actually missed a small mark.

Once Izuku is patched up, Kacchan slumps on his bed, untired but utterly bored, bringing one of his thick books with him. He leaves Izuku on his floor, seemingly uncaring about hospitality.

Typical Kacchan.

It’s okay, as long as Kacchan will have him.

But then again, Izuku thinks, Kacchan has no other friend besides him.

Izuku can only smile when the room gets enveloped in silence, with only the sound of Kacchan’s flipping book pages and Izuku’s own huffs reverberating inside the room.

Later on, Kacchan will peak on him from the top of the bed, demanding Izuku to never hang out with those _assholes_ ever again.

“You only need me, Deku.”

“Okay, Kacchan,” he says back.

And to feed more of Izuku’s hungry soul, he spots a vase of daffodils on Kacchan’s desk, blooming bright despite the lack of the sun, as if it was only today when Izuku picked them from the humble ground of the Earth.

“Awww, you kept them, Kacchan,” coos Izuku, running excitedly to touch their shining gold petals. “And you’ve been taking care of them. I’ve picked them up, like… two weeks ago? It’s like _magic!_ Are you secretly a wizard, Kacchan?”

If Izuku turned around, he would find Kacchan’s face frown in confusion, watching Izuku’s back carefully like he hasn’t seen it before.

 

*

 

There are days when Izuku’s curiousity gets the best of him and asks why Kacchan does not blend in with the other tough kids like Tsubasa.

“I told don’t make friends with Muggles,” Kacchan reminds him and it scares Izuku a lot.

_Muggles._

Izuku asks, but Kacchan does not answer. He tried reading about it, but nothing ever comes up. He even asks Auntie Mitsuki and Uncle Masaru, but they will only smile at him and throw back an angry glance at Kacchan.

It is like a division, the only obstacle left between finally understanding his best friend.

_“What are you reading, Kacchan?” he asks once._

_“They’re not for Muggles, Deku,” Kacchan replies. “Read your shitty science books instead.”_

He wants to know.

He wants to know what’s behind those hardbound books, what’s written in those fragile-looking browning paper. He wants to know what a Muggle is.

 _‘I don’t make friends with Muggles.’_ Kacchan’s words reverberating in his head.

 

Izuku never pries, but sometimes, he does… indirectly, just barely scratching the surface.

“But you called me a Muggle before.”

He looks at Kacchan, wondering if he appears desperate with fears of rejection for being a Muggle that Kacchan hated a lot.  But to his relief… to his _utter relief_ , Kacchan dismisses the topic, alongside his trepidation of abandonment by someone so precious because of being something he can’t help to be.

“You’re… _special_ ,” says Kacchan with something unrecognizable in his voice, but nonetheless, it delivers a warm, toothy smile on Izuku’s face.

_Special._

Izuku is okay with that. He knows he isn’t really special. He is just a plain kid who wants to have a friend. Maybe Kacchan is like him? Someone who secretly wants friends? But Kacchan has always been alone. Kacchan has been alone for so long that he doesn’t really know how to make one?

 _‘It’s okay,’_ Izuku thinks to himself. _‘You’re special to me too.’_

And soon, he is less inclined to care about Muggles. After all, they are only at the tender age of eight - the age of buoyancy and liberty. As long as he and Kacchan are living satisfactorily on their own _perfect world_ , then Izuku will let him be.

“Hey, Deku,” says Kacchan, thoughtfully. His eyes concentrated on a seemingly interesting group of rocks just right beside the swings they are sitting at.

“Yes, Kacchan?” asks Izuku, busy jotting down notes for his homework due the next day.

“Do you want to read books” the taller boy asks, his tone careful, like he was suppressing an urge Izuku cannot comprehend.

“You mean, _your books_?” Izuku asks again, hope filling his chest.

“Yes, Deku, what else,” Kacchan laughs, eyes beaming. In his chest, something’s blooming, and Izuku knows it’s something wonderful. Something as pretty as those daffodils in Kacchan’s room.

“Are they any cool, Kacchan?”

“Of-fucking-course, they are,” says Kacchan, this time, louder jumping off the swing, extending his hands for Izuku to take. And of course, Izuku takes it willingly, with all his heart, like it is already an extension of him.

“What are they about?” he asks.

Kacchan grins with pride, and Izuku felt giddy. He has never seen Kacchan so enthusiastic and _alive._ Who is he to decline his friend’s request?

“They’re super cool, Deku! You’re gonna like it. Definitely cooler than Math and Science! Because… because it’s about _magic_!”

And Izuku, at the tender age of eight, thinks that a _perfect world_ really exists.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for the wonderful comments on the first installment of this mini-series. <3 <3 <3 It pushed me to write this sequel.  
> I would really love to hear it again from you guys. Bribe me with comments and I might make another sequel.


End file.
